Dreams can be totally wonderful. That’s the kind I had last night – simply wonderful!
Just as sure as tacit as this iPad, she smiled, we laughed, took turns, she painted my right foot, me, the other. Giggling, we spoke of favorite lines from her most loved television shows and films. Laughing hysterically, as in real life, her delivery made me laugh more heartily than the original show. Always that way. And at the end of the dream, one set of toenails, lighter shade of red, the other, brighter, more vibrant. We hugged, filled with joy.
She’s my younger daughter. We have not spoken in almost a year. Last I heard from her was last December when she emailed, asking I not contact her for another six months; no texting, emails, etc. unlike my older daughter, she has not blocked me from Facebook. We remain friends – bonded by wifi. As the six month mark approaches, perhaps my dream brings her to life.
My girls are different, both their own people. I love that about siblings. Beauty of individualism in the same family. And with that, my relationship with each daughter just as individual. Motherhood, equality in loving each child, the joy comes from each single relationship. As time moves on, I cope with estrangement differently than before, my ability to pull them apart, recognize that both relationships possess their own special qualities. Somehow I find comfort in this, more sense of peace, the unraveling of my pain, more focused, centered, less ginormous in scope.
The dream, so embodied in realism, brings hope. I need that for hope escapes me sometimes. I can feel self-pity continue dissipating, dissolving and I am glad. It’s taken time yet again, it’s happening. Life is happening. I’m living it, I’m learning it, I’m loving it. The pain, ever real as my dream, both reminders we all face our own journeys; each require the yin, the yang of experience. It is only then gratitude grows. I shall ever be grateful for my painted toenails. And I smile.